


Raised From the Depths

by authoressjean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel low on Grace, Drowning, Gen, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean
Summary: Mid season 5. He didn't know where the demon was: Castiel only knew that he himself was in the water.And he was starting to not like it.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	Raised From the Depths

**Author's Note:**

> Proof that I can write things about more than just Sam and Dean. And write short fics.

He had all of three seconds to experience falling before he was submerged in the icy cold water of the river.  
  
Castiel couldn't believe how cold it felt, surrounding him, pushing him further down. The lights from the dock above were blurred and fading away as he sank. This was a different type of falling than one from grace: when your grace was torn from you, there was nothing but pain and heat and a fast, dizzy tumble from the heavens. Only God Himself would know where you landed.  
  
Here, the fall was slower, the descent cold and muted. There was a pressure in his ears, growing greater as the waters became darker around him. He had no doubt that Dean and Sam were still yelling for him: they had been as he'd been pushed over the edge of the dock by the demon. He didn't know where the demon was: Castiel only knew that he himself was in the water.  
  
And he was starting not to like it.  
  
Any other time, he would have been able to use his grace to appear back on the cold, moon covered docks where he'd been standing only a moment before. Now, with so little grace left to him, barely any at all, he couldn't afford to waste it on one last jump back to the surface. He'd been saving it for something big, one last attempt to save them all, to help in some manner when everyone else was abandoning them. A "sinking ship" was the metaphor Dean had used.  
  
Castiel felt like that sinking ship now. The darkness of the waters, the muted senses, the pressure against his whole body, the weight that pulled him down...it felt too much like Hell. He needed out.  
  
Only then did he realize that his chest was burning, and the sensation was building fast up his throat and nose. Breathing. He needed to breathe.  
  
He inhaled and immediately remembered that his grace would not keep him safe from the physical boundaries of Earth. Water slid into his nose and throat, and he tried to cough it back up, but only succeeded in pulling more water in. He couldn't breathe. The water around him was no longer calm, as it had appeared when they'd first arrived at the docks. It was a prison and it was-  
  
It was killing him. Castiel was dying, and the pain, the _terror_ , that accompanied that thought was enough to make him begin to kick and flail. "Father," he called desperately, but the sound traveled barely to his own ears, and more water was pulled in. He was sinking still, and the blackness surrounding him was swallowing him now. Desperately, with the last of his strength, he raised his hands towards where he'd fallen from.  
  
And felt hands grab hold of his. Pulling him up from the blackness, the lights shining ahead of him again, and then-  
  
As soon as he breathed air in the water came back out. Noises and sounds filled his ears, but all he could feel was the water tearing up his throat as he expelled it. Then he could only gasp for air and lean against the hands that had saved him, that were still holding him above water.  
  
Only then did the sounds begin to make sense. "-hold of him," a voice said. _Dean_ , his mind registered. "Sammy, he's almost dead weight here," and there was a desperation in his voice Castiel had not heard before.  
  
"He's _not_ ," Sam replied fervently, a fear there. "He's fine, Dean, he's breathing, give him here-"  
  
More hands took hold of him and pulled him up from the moonlit waters onto the safety of the docks. His clothing was wet and heavy and he sank onto the wood, shivering, tired, and unable to move.  
  
"Guess we're gonna have to include swimming lessons in the near future," Dean said, an attempt of a smile in his voice. When Castiel opened his eyes, however, neither he nor Sam looked anywhere close to happy. If anything, they merely looked more afraid.  
  
"You can't sleep, Cas," Sam said gently, pulling him to a sitting position. "Stay awake, okay? We'll get you dry, I promise."  
  
Castiel forced himself to stay awake. The waters rocked carelessly against the dock, looking nowhere near as dangerous as they truly were. For the second time in his existence, Castiel had touched Hell.  
  
Yet this time, it was he who had been raised up from the depths. Someone had pulled him from the darkness.  
  
As he gazed into the anxious face of his savior, Castiel thought it was fitting that it had been Dean to do it.


End file.
